


Do You Know Where Your Towel Is?

by facelessoldwoman



Category: Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (2005), Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams, Sherlock (TV), Star Trek
Genre: F/M, M/M, Other, looking for love in Alderaan places, space boyfriends, sudden nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-18 10:22:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1424944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/facelessoldwoman/pseuds/facelessoldwoman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur Dent is just looking for his place in the Galaxy... or maybe in an Alternate Universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Chance Encounter

The tea was terrible.

Arthur Dent was not really drinking tea because tea was composed of boiled water and the extract of leaves that are only grown on a planet called Earth- a mostly harmless planet that no longer exists. The "tea" in question was a highly sophisticated but nigh undrinkable imitation that mostly served to frustrate rather than quench. There had been many times when Arthur missed the Earth so much that it hurt, and really, there hadn’t had much time to miss it considering the fact that the Vogons had destroyed it approximately 47 hours ago. But now, here he was in space surrounded by miracles of innovation on every shelf… and he couldn’t even get a decent cuppa.

His head was spinning and he was feeling even more lost than usual: a side effect of the improbability drive backfiring once again. He should really talk to Ford about getting a proper driver on this ship before they all grew improbable second heads (not that Zaphod would even notice). No matter how long he was on this ship the improbability drive would never make sense to him. He was used to the much more mundane outcomes like **A+B=C** , not the insanity of **A+B= _Suddenly A and B turn into sofas_.**

“Nothing makes sense anymore,” Arthur said, tossing his still hot tea in the bin.

“Wasteful,” Marvin groaned.

“Marvin!” Arthur said, “I didn’t even know you were in here!”

“Nobody notices, why would they?” Marvin sulked. His shoulders were perpetually slumped and his head bowed.

“I would have said hi if I knew you were there,” Arthur said, grabbing his towel and heading out of the room.

Marvin followed him.

“Greetings don’t change anything, nothing matters,” Marvin said, moping in Arthur’s wake. Arthur picked up his pace.

“Some things matter,” Arthur said, “Some people matter.”

“Who are you so excited to see then?” Marvin asked, as Arthur stopped in front of a door- poised to knock.

“Only the most important person in the entire universe,” Arthur said. He pictured Tricia -no, Trillian- in his mind and couldn’t help but smile. If he had to be dragged out of his comfortable reality and into this mess at least there was one sane person with him who remembered what life was like before.

“That sounds highly unlikely,” Marvin said, and he wandered off, a little slower now.

Arthur knocked and the doors opened.

Now in this order three very peculiar things happened:

 

  1. The first odd thing that happened was that instead of the normal cheerful airy voice of the doors letting him in he heard instead a slightly squeaky noise as the doors opened automatically. This should have struck Arthur as odd, but everything was so odd lately that this minor detail really passed him by.
  2. The second odd thing that happened was that the room which was normally Trillian’s personal bunk actually turned out to be a bathroom. For the record, Trillian’s bunk contains a bed, several trunks filled with clothes, a collection of whimsical hats, a copy of the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, and an extra towel. The room in which Arthur now found himself was a large waterproof room with a faucet dangling from the ceiling where people would traditionally come to bathe.
  3. The third odd thing to happen was that instead of a beautiful but unassuming woman reading a book or taking a nap the room contained a man making use of the shower.



 

_Of all the items on this list, Arthur was most surprised by the third item._

The man was rather hard not to notice. He was completely starkers, and dripping wet besides. He was a big, muscular, and all together sour looking man; in fact, he looked to be the type of man who would not take kindly to being interrupted whilst his bits were out.

“O-o-Oh,” Arthur stammered, covering his eyes with his towel, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” the man said. His prominent brow was dripping a steady stream of water, his eyes remained firmly shut.

“I’ll, um, I’ll just be going then,” Arthur said, nearly stumbling backwards in haste.

“Don’t,” the man said.

“Excuse me?” Arthur asked.

“I have planned this day for a very long time. I know every detail of the operations and the personnel invited on this vessel and you match neither the description nor the function of any of them,” the man said.

“I don’t understand,” Arthur said.

“Perhaps it has escaped your notice but you are on the Starship Enterprise in close quarters with a dangerous prisoner who the Captain himself ordered sequestered away from all crewmembers,” the man said, his posture never faltering, “Despite the astronomical odds of anyone breaching the many security protocols put into place to isolate me you are unarmed, unprepared, and seemingly unaware of what you just stumbled into.”

“I still don’t understand,” Arthur said.

“You should put that on a t-shirt,” the man smiled.

“I don’t know about any Captain or security protocols, and I have never heard of the Enterprise in my life. I’m just quiet unassuming Dent. Arthur Dent!”

“Why hello Dent Arthur-Dent,” the man said.

“I can’t believe this is happening again, why does no one understand how names work,” Arthur said, grumbling.

“Calm down it’s a joke, John,” the man smirked.

“My name isn’t John, it’s Arthur,” Arthur huffed.

“As you have told me repeatedly,” The man said, stepping forward. As soon as he did the water stopped and the room was eerily quiet, “John is my name.”

The man was looking at Arthur with a strange longing, almost as though willing him to say something, although Arthur had no idea what that might be.

 “And I’ll just be leaving,” Arthur said, turning to go again.

“I was hoping that you might recognize me. As improbable as it might seem you … remind me very much of someone that I knew a long time ago,” John trailed off, his mind somewhere else, “A very long time ago.”

“I don’t suppose you’d believe me if I said I just had _one of those faces_ ,” Arthur shrugged.

“Coincidence? The universe is rarely so lazy,” John said, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry mate, I don’t think I can help you,” Arthur said.

“Can’t you see, you have the one thing I need?” John said, stepping even closer and reacquainting Arthur with just how very naked this strange man was.

“What?” Arthur asked, eyes wide.

“I can always use a man who knows where his towel is,” John said, grabbing the towel and wrapping it around his waist. Arthur huffed an audible sigh of relief and felt free to let his eyes look down for the first time in minutes. The man known as John sat on a bench next to the door, his back was ramrod straight and his gaze was one of intense concentration.

“You said that uh,” Arthur said, not wanting to pry, “You said that you were dangerous.”

“Yes, terribly dangerous,” John said, he turned to face him, “And yet here you are.”

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Arthur said.

“I don’t mind,” John said, “I have nothing left to hide. There are no secrets now.”

“Oh, okay,” Arthur said, “Well, if you don’t mind my asking, what did you do to get locked up?”

“I committed several acts of terrorism which destroyed buildings, ended many lives, and nearly started an intergalactic war,” John said, matter-of-factly.

“You… you **_what_ _?_** ” Arthur said. If he had been drinking tea he would have spilled it all over himself.

“I never said I was a nice person,” John shrugged.

“You tried to start an intergalactic war?” Arthur said.

“War was never my true aim. These are not my people. Their politics are merely in the way between me and what I want,” John sighed.

“What could you possibly want?” Arthur said, “What could justify this?”

“They held my family hostage and used my desperation to exploit my savagery. I showed them savagery really is,” John said, his hands shaking.

“Your family?” Arthur asked, he had never suspected for a second that the strange war-hungry man in a towel was sentimental.

“I have been ripped away from everything I knew and everyone I loved,” John said, “Do you know what it is like to lose everything?”

Arthur thought back to every memory he ever had in his life before 48 hours ago: his job, his friends, his family, the sky, the air, the tea… all of that was gone forever. A million billion things he would only ever keep remembering and mourning as time went by.

“I think I do, actually,” Arthur said.

“Then I ask you,” John said, “If you had any chance of bringing even a small part of that back, wouldn’t you? No matter the cost?”

“I don’t know what I would do,” Arthur said.

“I hope you never do,” John said.

The sound of footsteps came from the hallway.

“In one hour every creature aboard this ship that breathes air to live will be blue and dead,” John said, all emotion removed, he was delivering facts now, “I would rather you were not aboard when that happened.”

“Please reconsider,” Arthur said.

“Go,” John said.

John shoved Arthur backward through the door which sighed with pleasure as it slid open. Suddenly Arthur was tumbling through the doorway into Trillian’s room. The bed and the book and the trunks were all where they were supposed to be- even as Arthur felt a pang in his heart that perhaps he was no longer where he was supposed to be.


	2. Friends like These

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Arthur comes back to surreality he ponders which way is home.

“What’s the matter?” Trillian asked. She rushed up off her bed to his side.

“What do you mean?” Arthur asked.

“You look awful,” Trillian said.

“ _Thanks_ ,” Arthur said.

“No, I mean it, you look like something’s gone terribly terribly wrong,” Trillian said.

“Yes, something did,” Arthur said, “Though I’m not even sure if it’s real.”

“Are you hurt? Are you okay?" Trillian said, looking him up and down, "Please talk to me.”

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Arthur said, rubbing at his eyes and trying to push away unwelcome visions of people who were never coming back, “I was just overreacting.”

Trillian hugged him hard, “You don’t have to pretend with me, Arthur, we’re in this together.”

Arthur hugged her back and tried to bite back tears. He wished that a hug could be enough but he had never felt more alone. The truth was that even before any hint of trouble Trillian had chosen to leave. Arthur had only left Earth because Ford didn’t want him to be killed with the rest of the planet.

“This is so nice, I needed this,” a third man’s voice said.

“What the actual hell!” Arthur said.

Trillian was giggling, tickled by the 15 nimble fingers of the former President of the Galaxy and the current full time insane person: Zaphod Beeblebrox. Both of his ridiculous heads were smiling. Arthur wanted to die.

“I’m going,” Arthur said, picking up a spare towel to replace the one he’d left behind.

“Hey there, don’t go- two’s company but three’s a trio!” Zaphod said.

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Arthur said as he walked out the door.

“You don’t even make sense,” Zaphod replied. One of his heads nibbled playfully at Trillian’s ear. Trillian slapped the head that was speaking and the other head laughed.

“You are so bad!” Trillian said.

“That’s why you love me, baby,” Zaphod grinned, pulling out two pairs of sunglasses and placing them on both of his faces simultaneously.

*        *        *        *        * 

Arthur found his unassuming friend Ford Prefect sitting on the ground eating a package of salted peanuts. He stared out the window into the dark recesses of space through a pair of dark sunglasses. A nearly empty green fizzy drink rested beside him.

“Look who it is!” Ford said, gripping Arthur in a heavy handshake that dragged his friend all the way down to the ground with him, “Always lovely to see you Arthur!”

“Pleasure,” Arthur hummed, picking up the drink to examine it but he reeled instinctively from the concentrated stench of alcohol that it emitted.

“Can I help it if I’m a girl who likes a good time?” Ford chuckled, downing the rest of his drink, “But let’s not split hairs here- what’s troubling you?”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” Arthur said, “Am I just that pathetic?”

“Mate, your planet was exploded two days ago and Zaphod is macking on the only other surviving member of your species. It is okay to temporarily succumb to a case _frownie-face-itis_ ,” Ford Prefect said.

“You sure do know how to make a bloke feel better,” Arthur rolled his eyes.

“Will you just tell me what’s bothering you so we can all move on with our lives,” Ford said. He lowered his sunglasses but his eyes held no condescension, only concern.

“I was just wondering,” Arthur said, “If there was a way to bring the ship back to one of the coordinates it had visited before on the Improbability Drive?”

“You fancy another go at being a sofa then?” Ford giggled, “It was a rather flattering look on you if I do say so myself.”

“Get off it,” Arthur said, smoothing the creases of his bathrobe, “I was a very attractive sofa thank you very much, even though I may never psychologically recover from that.”

 “Point taken,” Ford said, hands raised and conciliatory, “I don’t know how the Drive works, but if there is any chance that it might work- it will. Let’s go make some magic then, shall we?”

Arthur got up but Ford stayed slumped against the wall as though he had forgotten how legs worked. With a little tug and guidance from Arthur - Ford popped up and wobbled slightly on his feet before yelling, “That drink is the tits!” and falling back down again.

Arthur silently reminded himself never to let Ford drink one of those again, at least not on a day that they might need to run for their lives, and he more or less dragged his rambling companion into the control room. Arthur rubbed his brow and stared at the expansive panels of buttons and meters. Ford was semi-unconscious on the chair beside him and was therefore of minimal help. Arthur was a little troubled that Ford wasn’t blinking, but every now and then Arthur heard his friend giggling and so he was pretty sure that he was still alive.

“How does this bloody thing even work?” Arthur said.

“Hello friend do you need some help!?” the user interface chirped brightly.

“Uh, yes, I was wondering if you had a log of the places that the improbability drive had been to?” Arthur asked.

“I have a running catalog of all the places that the improbability drive has been, is going, and will go- although the possibilities are prone to change from moment to moment! Which coordinates do you desire!?” the interface said in a voice that seemed more appropriate for a person announcing gameshow prizes.

“Um, well, I am not sure where exactly,” Arthur said, “Does the computer have any records of the Starship Enterprise?”

“That coordinate is in a state of flux and our records are volatile! It is almost as though the very history of that universe is being rewritten! Would you care to view a Presentation on the History of Starfleet!?” the interface said.

“History is being… rewritten?” Arthur asked.

“The nature of the universe will be fundamentally the same in every reincarnation, the same people in different circumstances- however small but important alterations within a timeline can lead to immensely different chains of consequence!” the voice said, “The fate of this universe is splintered from an interaction from a parallel universe and the fate of their galaxy is transforming in unpredictable leaps.”

“What?” Arthur asked.

“Someone from outside their universe interfered with their timeline,” Ford said, picking his head up but still refusing to blink, “So everything is a bit wonky and changeable. It’s in the Guide, haven’t you been reading the Guide?”

“So, things are not predestined in their universe? Interference can make a difference?” Arthur asked.

“I don’t know why you would ask that but it is completely possible to change the history of this universe through direct intervention!” the voice said brightly, “Is there anything else you would like to know?”

“Is it possible to get to back to the coordinates from the Enterprise?” Arthur asked.

“The odds are 10 to the 85763092401221 against,” The ship calculated.

“ _ **Do it**_!” Ford yelled.


	3. Your Princess is in Another Castle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur gives Khan a bright idea and inadvertently puts an entire ship in mortal peril.

Arthur was in an unfamiliar gray room. A lot of people stood around looking very tense and angry. All of these other people were eclipsed by John, who was standing front and center. Arthur's direction of focus could be attributed to the fact that John was the one person that Arthur recognized- but it might also have been because John held a weapon to another man’s brain stem.

“I'm going to make this very simple for you,” John said, his voice terse and aggressive.

A large screen was mounted on the front facing wall. The screen projected a man’s face: he looked vaguely… _Asian?_ Maybe it had something to do with his pointed eyebrows which were very severe but Arthur decided to not make any assumptions on the off-chance that mentioning it would be considered racially insensitive. Plus it was kind of hard to tell when everything was so bright and saturated on the ship in the screen.   

The (maybe-Asian) man spoke, “Captain!” He sounded alarmed, and Arthur guessed that he was speaking to the man that John held in a headlock. This must be the same ‘Captain’ that had imprisoned John earlier.

John ignored him, “Your crew for my crew.”

“You betrayed us,” the (maybe-Asian) man protested. Arthur could see the man had pointed ears. _Was he an elf? Were elves a thing here? Are elves aliens?!_

“Oh, you are smart, Mr. Spock,” John said.

“Spock, don't...” the Captain said, but John struck a blow that sent the man clattering to the floor in pain.

“John, please don’t do this!” Arthur said, rushing to the aid of the fallen man. Everyone in the room and everyone on the screen in the front of the room turned to look at Arthur. Who suddenly felt very underdressed because he was still in his pajamas. Even the Captain seemed confused by his sudden appearance, although not unpleasantly so.

“Arthur I don’t know what you’re doing here but now is not the time,” John said, “Mr. Spock, give me my crew.”

“I’m sure you can get them back by being reasonable,” Arthur said, “If everyone would just calm down and-“

“What will you do when you get them?” Spock asked.

“See, that’s reasonable,” Arthur said, getting the feeling that he was talking only to himself. He dragged the Captain over to a blonde woman in the corner of the room. She appeared to have a leg injury which was just starting to purple and bruise; she was shaking and was too sore to touch it at all.

“Continue the work we were doing before we were banished,” John said.

“Which as I understand it involves the mass-genocide of any being you find to be less than superior,” Spock retorted.

“Wow, that is rather Hitler-y, don’t you think?” Arthur said. The Captain giggled in spite of himself and although John turned to investigate the disturbance he continued on as though he didn’t hear him.

“Shall I destroy you, Mr. Spock? Or will you give me what I want?” John said.

“John, please stop this,” Arthur said.

“His name’s Khan,” the Captain said.

“Really?” Arthur asked.

“Yes! Everybody stop and get to know each other! How wonderful,” Khan said, his voice filled with annoyance, “My name is Khan. Arthur this is Captain Kirk and Carol Marcus. Kirk and Carol this is Arthur- Do we all know each other now? Great! Let’s move on!”

“Bit touchy, eh?” Arthur said.

Khan narrowed his eyes, “I am in the MIDDLE of a hostage negotiation! Can you save the commentary for later!?”

“This is not a negotiation, this is terrorism,” Mr Spock said, “You have attacked our ship and cost an as yet uncounted number of lives.”

 “You have my crew, and I will stop at nothing to retrieve them. If you test me: First, I will kill your captain to demonstrate my resolve, then if yours holds I will have no choice but to kill you and your entire crew,” Khan said.

“If you destroy our ship,” Spock argued, “You will also destroy your own people.”

Khan’s mouth twisted into a smile of Grinchy proportions, “Your crew requires oxygen to survive, mine does not. I will target your life support systems located behind the aft nacelle. And after every single person aboard your ship suffocates, I will walk over your cold corpses to recover my people. Now, shall we begin?”

“...Lower shields,” Spock said.

Khan promptly sent the injured Kirk and Carol back to the Enterprise and turned his attention to the ship computer. Khan was seemingly entirely focused on this task, but when Arthur least expected it John stopped what he was doing to turned and face him.

“Why did you come back here, Arthur?” Khan asked.

“When I got back I realized that I was needed here more,” Arthur said, watching Khan work on the unintelligible dials and screens with ease, “Plus the tea was rubbish.”

“You must be even more enamored with danger than I thought for you to come back here,” Khan said, “There is every possibility that you will die simply for being associated with me.”

“Reckon I don’t have much to lose, I’m supposed to be dead already,” Arthur said, though a weakness in his knees betrayed him, “So, you looking for your crew?”

“Yes, they were sealed in torpedo pods aboard the Enterprise without the Captain’s knowledge. With his shields lowered I can retrieve my crew by locating the torpedos, they even have tracking mechanisms built in, one of my own personal touches,” Khan smiled.

“So, they were put INTO torpedos,” Arthur said.

“That is what I said,” Khan said.

“Could they, you know, be pulled OUT of the torpedoes?” Arthur mused.

Khan stopped dead in his tracks.

“Oh that is brilliant,” Khan shouted, grabbing Arthur by the shoulders and twirling him around, “Fantastic!”

“What?” Arthur asked, completely unsure of how to untangle himself from the large scary man who had so recently changed names.

“You may not be the brightest man in the universe but as a CONDUCTOR of light you can’t be beat!” Khan said, practically singing with joy.

“Um, thanks,” Arthur said, his brow furrowing.

“This is the most obvious double cross, I can’t believe I didn’t question it! They can sabotage the drop off and destroy my ship before I can retaliate!” Khan said, “It would be so blind and shortsighted of me to accept TORPEDOES into my ship based only on their word!”

“Well, yeah,” Arthur said, “Considering those are things that … explode and all.”

“So now I can just continue on with my original plan and cut off their oxygen supply. They are stranded after all, with no warp and no hope of rescue, so it will just be a waiting game until they all die. Everyone except MY crew of course considering that they are all sealed in pods. Neat!” Khan said, a sick smile touching his lips at the logical package of his plan completely unphased by the human lives hanging in the balance.

“No, don’t do that!” Arthur said.

“Why not?” Khan asked.

“Because people will die,” Arthur said.

“That’s what people DO!” Khan said.

“You said that you would prefer that I wasn’t on the ship when you cut off the oxygen supply, so you care that I don’t die,” Arthur said.

“I’m not a hero, Arthur,” Khan said.

“And I’m not a damsel in distress," Arthur said, "Goodbye Khan.”

Arthur pressed a button on the panel that he had observed Khan using earlier. Arthur had one short moment to appreciate Khan’s look of horror before Arthur vanished in a shroud of light and teleported to the Enterprise.


	4. Trembling Tribbles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur boards the Enterprise and redefines his allegiances.

Normally the teleport station of the Enterprise would be vigilantly watched by several engineering crewmembers, but Arthur arrived completely unchaperoned. This was likely because Enterprise was going to hell in a hand-basket: everything was loud and red and flashy like Red October, people were yelling, gravity was shifting. Generally not a good time.

“It must be Thursday. I never could get the hang of Thursdays,” Arthur said, holding his ears to shield against the yelling. Arthur rushed out of the transport room and ran down the halls of the ship. He found the bridge fairly easily. He banged on the door and to his surprise they let him in.

“Arthur, what are your allegiances?” Spock asked, he was in conference with several other serious looking people in gold shirts but he turned his head slightly to address the out-of-place man in his pajamas.

“Um, I am all in favor of no one on this ship dying,” Arthur said.

“Then we are on the same side,” Spock said.

“Right then- so where are his crew?” Arthur asked.

“Mr Sulu- has he evacuated the torpedoes yet?” Spock asked into a personal radio.

“The torpedoes have not been touched, sir,” the radio chirped back.

“What is he waiting for?” Spock said in a low calculating voice as he shut the device.

“Well, he figured out that you’d use those torpedoes to blow up his ship,” Arthur said.

Spock lightly set his radio onto a panel beside him and then sat down into a central and _important-looking_ chair. He made his hands into a steeple and rested his brow there, saying in a quiet voice, “That was the only plan we had left.”

Spock looked up and said, “I don’t suppose you have any idea why he hasn’t attacked our ship while our shields are down?”

“Well, I sort of popped over here without permission and that threw a wrench in everything,” Arthur shrugged.

“We owe you our lives, Arthur,” Spock nodded, “However long we have left before the Core kills us.”

“Engineering to Bridge, Mr. Spock,” a Scottish person said on the radio.

“Yes Mr. Scott,” Spock said.

“Is the Scottish guy really called Mr. Scott? _Really?_ ” Arthur mumbled, staring around the Bridge looking for someone to answer him.

“You better get down here,” the Scottish guy named Scott said, “You better hurry.”

Suddenly Spock was running out the door and Arthur was following him.

It was a madhouse on the ship, every hall and room and doorway was lined with people hurt and scared and trying desperately to do their jobs and restore order. Everyone stopped what they were doing when they saw that Spock was in a hurry. Mr. Spock parted the Red Sea of redshirts in his wake- they all knew better than to get in the way of where ever he was going.

Finally they ended up in a large scary room that looked like it could explode the whole ship along with an entire European nation if something went wrong. Spock walked up to a man who was chocked up on tears, the man shook his head sadly before letting Spock pass.

Arthur saw a grievously ill man locked in a glass compartment. Arthur could only guess that the man had been radiated by the futuristic machinery and that he was locked in the glass chamber so that he wouldn’t contaminate everyone else. Arthur was shocked to see that this was the same Captain that Khan had held captive such a short time ago. Captain Kirk: the man with bright blue eyes who had giggled at a Hitler joke- Now breathing his final breaths.

No one was calling for doctors. No one was moving to help the captain. They let Mr. Spock through and he sat beside the fallen man. They spoke a few quiet words and reached for each other through the glass. They must be friends. This is what friends do when all is lost.

“Nope. No more. No one else dies today,” Arthur said.

Arthur knew that he had little time to come up with a plan, and even less chance of making a difference- so he ran out of the room as fast as he could and looked for someone to help him. The first person he came upon was a young curly haired fellow in a red shirt.

“Where are the torpedoes?” Arthur asked.

“Zat is top seecret!” the boy said, obviously insulted.

“I’m speaking for the Captain, that’s an order,” Arthur said. He straightened his spine, lowered his brow, and put as much authority into his voice as he could muster.  

“Ze keptin!?” The man said, “Ve must do vatever ve can!”

The hustled down the halls in his haste to help. Arthur smirked a little- it felt good to be in charge.

When he got to the weapons area an Asian man (Arthur was almost sure that this man was actually Asian) rolling one last canister to the side and then he turned his attention into a panel of buttons on the wall that seemed to be targeting equipment facing Khan’s ship.

“Zis is Mizter Sulu, Sir,” the boy said.

“Thank you, Chekov. That will be all,” Arthur said. He saluted the spritely young lad, who then turned on his heel and ran to attend to other business.

“Mr. Sulu: You call the shots around here, yeah?” Arthur asked.

“Who are you and what are you doing here- this is a restricted area,” Mr. Sulu said, looking suspiciously at Arthur’s pajamas.

“I’m Arthur Dent, and I need you to back away from the torpedoes,” Arthur said.

“I am operating under authority of Commander Spock, stand down,” Mr. Sulu said.

“Well I don’t answer to Commander Spock,” Arthur said.

“What are your allegiances?” Mr. Sulu said.

“I’m all in favor of no one on this ship dying,” Arthur said, “But I don’t want you to kill Khan either.”

“He attacked our ship, people have died,” Mr. Sulu said.

“Attacking his ship will only make this worse! Haven’t enough people died today?” Arthur said, “I thought you were explorers.”

A man walked up in a Doctor’s scrubs, “Mr. Sulu, I need to talk to you.”

“Dr. McCoy, I must insist that you head back to the medical bay,” Mr. Sulu said, “We have our ship ready to go into warp and I have orders to fire these torpedoes while shields are down.”

“Hold up,” Dr. McCoy said, “We don’t want anything happening to Khan.”

“Excuse me?” Mr. Sulu said.

The doctor held up a little quivering furball and said that it was a creature that had been revived by a blood transfusion from Khan. “This is our best chance for saving the Captain,” the doctor concluded.

“ _That’s preposterous_ ,” Arthur mumbled.


	5. Don't Panic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Khan realizes that he would rather be happy than right any day, although he certainly isn't happy.

Back in the bridge Arthur stood by Spock as the Enterprise sought to make contact with Khan’s ship. Arthur was holding his breath. He didn’t know what would happen, but he feared that things could go horrifically and unpredictably wrong without much prompting. The screen lit up with Khan’s face. He looked suspicious and angry, but his gaze around the screen froze on Arthur for several tense seconds before he relaxed a fraction of a degree.

“Mister Spock, what a nice surprise,” Khan said, “And where is Captain Kirk?”

“The Captain underwent catastrophic injury to repair our warp core,” Spock said, “I am willing to negotiate your crew for the successful revival of Captain Kirk.”  

“What is his status?” Khan asked.

“Massive shock, tissue damage, organ system failure,” Spock said, rattling off a list which Dr. McCoy compiled during the Captain’s medical exam.

“That doesn’t sound like catastrophic injury Mr. Spock,” Khan laughed, “Your Captain is dead.”

“Can you help him?” Spock said. His voice betrayed no sign of emotion, but he was leaning forward with a great intensity in his eyes. Khan was the only hope the Captain had left.

“My crew must be released,” Khan said.

“Can you help him!” Spock repeated.

“My crew, First!” Khan demanded.

“Boys, Boys, Boys- Settle down!” Arthur said, “Spock- can you promise the safety of his crew?”

“Yes,” Spock said, never diverting his gaze from the screen.

“Khan- can you help the Captain?” Arthur said.

“It is possible,” Khan said, his voice was lowered but his gaze was dark.

“Then how about you pop over here to see your crew then?” Arthur said, “I am sure Mr. Spock here can have them prepared for safe transport by the time the Captain is all patched up!”

“If you betray me you will not live long enough to regret it,” Khan said.

The screen cut to black.

“We cannot allow Khan to revive his crew,” Spock said.

“You talk kinda like a robot, did you know that?” Arthur said, “No, scratch that. I’ve met robots, they’re much more emotional than you.”

Mr. Spock appeared to be oddly flattered by that comment.

*             *             *             *             *

Khan was greeted at the teleport station by a dozen crewmembers carrying phasers. Khan slowly raised his hands in submission but he smirked all the same. They brought him to the medical bay and where he sat patiently while they prepared needles and tubes and vials. He instructed them in a disinterested voice, only sparing them a passing glance to monitor their progress.

The Captain lay beside him, cold and veiled beneath a white sheet.

Arthur stood behind Khan but he didn’t know what to say. Arthur coughed to break the silence, “So, you’ll be seeing your family soon again then, yeah?”

“It does not seem likely,” Khan sighed.

“What do you mean?” Arthur said, hissing his words in an attempt to remain inconspicuous.

“I lost my leverage and my façade,” Khan said, he sounded bored as if he were explaining the most rudimentary of facts, “The men who run this ship are that peculiar brand of fools who live according to morals: they will neither allow me to reclaim my crew nor will they destroy me. Boarding this ship was the irrevocable dissolution of my own self-interest.”

“You are the hero, then,” Arthur said, looking at the Captain.

“No, I’m a failure,” Khan said, bowing his head, “I failed my crew. They were counting on me and I failed them.”

“Then why did you come back?” Arthur asked.

“Unfinished business, I suppose” Khan said as he turned back to look at Arthur. He sighed and said, “You inspire all sorts of bad decisions, Arthur.”

“And all this time you thought I was the one with the penchant for danger,” Arthur said.

Khan smiled. Arthur wished he wouldn’t smile. It was far too confusing to see him smile. And now Arthur was smiling. This entire universe was bonkers.

*             *             *             *             *

Dr. McCoy hooked Khan up to the intravenous device and began extracting blood. Khan was holding his arm out resolutely, pumping his had intermittently to keep the vein open. The entire procedure was tense but oddly anticlimactic. It would have been downright boring if it weren’t for the red shirts holding phasers at the ready.

After a few minutes Dr. McCoy tired of looking at Khan and he redirected his focus on the Captain. He was holding some sort of portable medical scanner which made seemingly random beeping noises. He began by looking grievous, then he turned slowly to intense scrutiny, and finally a glimmer of hope shined in his eyes as the Captain sucked in a gasp of air.

Khan turned to Arthur and whispered, “When I say run, **_run_**.”

Arthur didn’t have time to question what was going to happen. Everyone shifted their focus from Khan to the man on the gurney. The doctor had only just begun assessing the Captain’s vitals when Khan jerked into motion and shouted, “Run!”

Khan charged out of the swarm of red shirts, bowling through them like dominos while Arthur followed after him through the wake of confused fallen crewmembers while muttering, “ _Sorry, excuse me, sorry_.”

They were sprinting down the halls, none of the crew out here seemed to understand that the odd men running past them were fugitives and so they let them pass.

Khan led the way. He seemed to know where he was going. The loud speakers announced that there were two dangerous men trying to evade capture aboard the ship and that the men should be reported but not approached. Khan only ran faster as Arthur groaned and strained to keep up.

They arrived at the weapons bay where Mr. Sulu was waiting.

“You’re insane if you think we’ll release your crew after all you’ve done,” Mr. Sulu said. He stood his ground in front of the white pods dislodged from the torpedoes that contained the comatose crewmembers.

“I’m not leaving without them,” Khan said.

“You’re not leaving at all!” Mr. Sulu said, and he pulled out an honest to god SWORD. IN SPACE. WHAT!?

“ _I think I have an idea_ ,” Arthur said under his breath.

“ _What is it?_ ” Khan hissed.

“You’re not going to like it,” Arthur whispered. Arthur turned his attention forward and in his calmest voice he said, “Mr. Sulu, you should probably hang onto something.”

“What!?” Mr. Sulu said, eyes darting for the nearest handhold.

“Take a deep breath,” Arthur said to Khan. Arthur didn’t hesitate. He punched the button on the wall releasing the airlock for the torpedoes sending every loose item in the Weapon Bay into the vacuum of space- including Arthur, Khan, and Khan’s entire crew.


	6. The Frying Pan Said to the Fryer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a world of infinite possibility- is there a situation possible in which one person's happiness does not squash another person's happiness?

Arthur and Khan rocketed through the cold vacuum of space with uninterrupted velocity. Pods crashed into each other noiselessly causing these objects with considerable mass and unyielding speed to veer in unpredictable directions. The Enterprise shrank behind them with every passing second- as did their survival rates.

Needless to say- this was not an ideal outcome. A sane person faced with a dangerous confrontation would hardly consider the vacuum of space to be a favorable alternative. Arthur knew that space was big, though it is unlikely that Arthur could fully appreciate just how vastly hugely mind-bogglingly big it is. 

Khan, however, knew that the chances of getting picked up by another ship within those thirty seconds are two to the power of two hundred and seventy-six thousand seven hundred and nine to one against. Khan also knew that the average man would only survive these conditions for 30 seconds with a lungful of air. Khan would have a few more seconds than Arthur but he would succumb to the void soon enough. His crew could float in stasis indefinitely... perhaps that was the best compromise he could hope for in these circumstances; maybe the best thing for them was just to let them sleep.

Arthur panicked when the momentum of the bay doors opening sent them crashing out into space, and he lost his grip on Khan. A pod careened by and Arthur used it as a platform to bounce his way closer to Khan. He extended his body as far as he could along a trajectory that would not intersect in the time they had left- and all hope seemed lost until Khan caught his grip around the towel that Arthur was still miraculously holding. Arthur took what limited satisfaction he could from the fact that Khan pulled the towel inwards and grabbed Arthur’s hand. 

Arthur kept a tight grip on Khan as they drifted silently through the mayhem. Khan thought this was one last attempt for comfort and he obliged. It turns out that Arthur knew that the improbable was inevitable in certain circumstances and that in those cases you might need a hand.

Suddenly and inexplicably Arthur and Khan were in the landing deck of a friendly ship which appeared out of a neighboring dimension. Arthur would never become accustomed to the improbable events that conspired on this ship- but even with his previous experience he felt that things were even more bizarre than usual.

"Arthur?" Khan asked.

"Yes, Khan?" Arthur said.

"Do I look any different?" Khan said. 

Arthur looked over to Khan, who only moments before had turned into an otter wearing a navy scarf. The otter was looking at Arthur with a very alarmed expression on his face. The otter may have been so alarmed because the previously unassuming human Arthur was now a hedgehog wearing a tiny black bowler hat.

Hedgehog Arthur looked at Otter Khan and was silent for a moment before concluding, "I don't see any difference."

Reality recalibrated itself and Khan and Arthur popped back into their normal forms: clutching their sides and pointing with incomprehensible laughter at each other. Slowly Arthur calmed down and realized that Marvin was there waiting for them. Marvin stood in front of an open door and beckoned them to follow him into the hallway.

"No, don't hurry on my account," Marvin moaned, "Not like time makes any difference."

Khan looked from Arthur to the Marvin and back to Arthur.

"Why is that oddly shaped metal man is so melancholic?" Khan asked.

"I'm an android, thanks for asking," Marvin said, "Come on then, let's go."

"That's... Marvin," Arthur shrugged. 

Khan looked no less confused upon receiving these explanations. Arthur started to follow Marvin through the ship and Khan hesitated before falling in step behind him. 

"How are we not dead?" Khan asked.

"We're hitchhiking," Arthur said.

"The odds of being successfully rescued by another ship while drifting through space are beyond astronomical," Khan huffed.

"It's improbable- but not impossible," Arthur said, "This ship specializes in the improbable."

They walked down the gently sighing doors into the control room of the ship where Zaphod, Ford Prefect, and Trillian were all waiting. Khan looked to Arthur to see if this development was good or bad- and Arthur’s face lit up with recognition and joy. 

"Arthur, I thought I'd never see you again!" Ford said, setting down his drink and crossing the room to hug Arthur. Ford turned to Khan as though only just noticing the large muscular man in leather pants, “And who is this?”

“Uh yeah,” Arthur said, “This is Khan. Khan, this is Ford Prefect.”

“Like the car?” Khan asked under his breath.

“Long story my friend,” Ford laughed, clapping Khan on the shoulder, “Well, it’s a short story but I’ll tell you later. Arthur- You'll never believe it, they saved Earth!"

"No way! Did you go back in time or something?" Arthur asked.

"Wait just a second- what happened to Earth?" Khan asked.

"It's gone," Arthur said, "It got blown up to make way for a hyperspace bypass."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Zaphod laughed.

"THAT WAS YOU!?" Arthur yelled as he hurled himself at the grinning idiot. 

"That's not important right now, Arthur," Trillian said, holding Arthur back, "Earth is back."

"But how?" Arthur slowed and lowered his fists.

"They made another one!" Trillian announced happily.

"That's ridiculous," Khan smirked.

"Well, yes," Ford Prefect said, "But it's really true! Everything's back just the way it was! They even managed to save your house, Arthur!"

"No kidding!?" Arthur said. He paused to think of a hot kettle brewing normal Earth tea while overlooking his small quiet garden- a sight he thought would only ever be available to him in dreams now. But this was different, he really could go home now. 

Even though Arthur knew he should be elated something chafed against his happy news. Arthur looked from Khan to Ford (past Zaphod) and to Trillian. He paused for a moment before he asked, "If the Earth is back then ... why are you here?" 

"We're going to a restaurant at the end of the universe!” Trillian said, “You should come, it'll be a blast!"

"Come on Arthur," Ford chipped in, "There's literally nowhere in the galaxy like it."

"But- we can go home," Arthur said, keeping his focus on Trillian, "Don't you want to go home?"

"What's the hurry?" Trillian said.

"We lost everything," Arthur said, "But we just got a second chance. An improbable, impossible second chance- doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"I wanted to see the universe, I’m not quitting now," Trillian said, taking her place beside Zaphod (who looked more or less out to lunch mentally, as per usual).

Arthur was just about to say something back to her when Khan stepped in front of him to ask a question, "Who captains this vessel? I need to speak with them."

“That’d be Me, I’m the President of the Galaxy: Zaphod Beeblebrox- I’m sure you’ve heard of me” Zaphod said, extending a hand for Khan to shake.

“No,” Khan said flatly, pointedly refusing to shake hands, “You’re a leader of government and a pilot?”

“Um, not quite,” Trillian laughed politely, patting Zaphod on the shoulder, “We don’t really have such clear direction on this ship. The pilots were left back on the planet that built her but the she very nearly flies herself. You could try asking it whatever questions you have- it has a voice activated user-interface.”

“That will do very well, thank you,” Khan said, turning away from her as soon as she stopped speaking. He turned to the computer screens and dials and asked in a clear authoritative voice, “Computer- where are my crew?"

"I do not understand the request, please repeat,” the computer said in a bubbly voice.

“Why is it so cheerful?” Khan mumbled angrily to Arthur, who giggled. Khan continued, “My crew, they would have been following the same trajectory as my companion and I. Please run a search to find them and set course for their location.”

The computer was silent for a few moments, “Location not found. Would you care to start another query?”

“What do you mean ‘location not found’?” Khan snapped, “This ship hasn’t moved since we arrived and my crew was right beside me. How can you have lost them, they should still be within range of the trackers I installed in their pods.”

“The ship remained stationary but you traveled instantaneously across a universal divide,” the ship said, “Any objects or persons that did not land with you are no longer on the same existential plane. It would be impossible to run tracing procedures on objects which do not take up physical space within this reality.”

“They’re my crew,” Khan looked grimmer than he had even on the medical bay of the Enterprise, “I can’t abandon them.” 

Arthur set one hand on his friend’s shoulder and asked, "Khan, what do you want to do?" 

"I'm not going anywhere with this moron," Khan said, staring at Zaphod darkly, "It is against my better judgment that I am allowing him to live. Computer, return to the last jump point and begin search for my crew."

“Command not found,” the computer chirped brightly,

“Take me back!” Khan demanded, “Last known coordinates, the Enterprise, Starfleet, anything!”

“Command not found,” The computer repeated, “Would you care for a lesson on the history of Starfleet?”

Its voice remained bright even as Khan punched a crater into the main control panel and ripped one of the chairs bolted to the ground and smashed it to pieces.


	7. Star Crossed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry Not Sorry.

It took Arthur, Ford, and Trillian together to get Khan away from the control panel (they might have been more worried about the damages if any of them knew how to operate the controls) and finally they got him pressed against a wall. He stopped struggling all at once as if unwilling to waste the effort if it wouldn’t achieve the desired result.

“I know that this isn’t what you had hoped would happen,” Ford Prefect said. He didn’t know what else to say, he just kept putting on his sunglasses and taking them off again.

“I failed them,” Khan said, “I failed my crew.”

The large man fell to his knees, but stayed upright as he looked out into the void saying nothing. Silence reigned.

“You nearly tore apart the universe to save them. You liberated them from military imprisonment,” Arthur said, “Who knows- there might still be hope.”

“Improbable,” Khan laughed, “But… If they are reclaimed by Starfleet they will still be together. Perhaps one day they can awaken again. Nothing is certain.”

“I need more lemons,” Zaphod chipped in from somewhere in the corner.

“For the safety of everyone on this vessel please get this man out of my presence,” Khan said.

*             *             *             *             *

Arthur took Khan to the room which would have been his own if he were to have stayed. He set his towel down on a bedside table and bid Khan to sit down.

“I’d offer you some tea but trust me you really don’t want me to do that,” Arthur said.

“Duly noted,” Khan said. He sat down on the bed right next to Arthur. Arthur thought idly that he should really be more concerned about the proximity of their positions. The pair of them were much closer than two men would naturally choose in a room of this size. They were practically on top of each other. Even though that had not known each other for very long there was an intimacy in flying through the unprotected vacuum of space with someone which allowed Arthur to trust the man completely.

“I don’t believe I ever said thank you,” Khan said.

“For what?” Arthur asked.

“You changed my designs and prevented some very undesirable outcomes,” Khan said, “I did not wish to attack the Enterprise but I would not have hesitated to do so if I thought it necessary.”

“Ah, yeah,” Arthur said, “Mass murder, a bit not good.”

Khan laughed.

“Shut up you stupid git, it’s not funny,” Arthur said.

“It’s a little bit funny,” Khan said. He removed all expression from his face and adopted a Spock impersonation, “ _Massive shock, tissue damage, organ system failure_ …”

Suddenly they were both laughing, laughing so hard Arthur was clutching his sides and wheezing in his desperate attempt to catch his breath.

“You’re the worst,” Arthur said, drying tears from his eyes.

They sat a while in increasing calm before Khan said, “There’s something else. You saved my life. Thank you.”

Arthur didn’t know how to respond. Somehow even in the fluctuation of universes, the destruction of planets, and the rewriting of reality- the weight of one life was still too much to comprehend. He knew that Khan was guilty of many things, but he also knew that he was capable of much more. He was a great man. And maybe, if they were lucky, he might even be a good one.  

“Perhaps one day I might endeavor to repay you,” Khan said. His knees were pointed to face Arthur but his head was bowed and his eyes averted. His hair was a mess, fringe dangling over one eye in tangles. The sheer size of the man was hidden behind the stature of surrender.

“It would be enough for me that both of us lived long enough for you to try,” Arthur said. He was whispering, suddenly short on breath.

“You would have me believe that you are an ordinary man,” Khan said, raising his eyes to look over at Arthur. He paused, the agony of silence, before he licked his lips and continued, “But if I live for a million years I will never figure you out…”

“Would you just shut up already,” Arthur said. He grabbed Khan’s collar and dragged him closer for most insane but most desperately needed kiss of his entire life.  

 _Since the invention of the kiss, there have only been five kisses that were rated the most passionate, the most pure._ Admittedly this kiss was not one of them.

Arthur and Khan bumped noses and Khan was gasping too much to actually respond. Khan’s eyes shot open and his brows furrowed. Arthur opened his eyes and immediately withdrew, horrified by just how colossally he had misinterpreted the moment.

“Please, think nothing of it. Just, never mention it, please,” Arthur said, backing away as quickly as he could while he was still so meaningfully entangled with another man on a bed.

“Not a chance,” Khan growled.

Khan grabbed Arthur by his shoulders before snaking one arm beneath his own and pulling him closer. They were close enough to breathe the same air, to feel the other man’s heat radiating off of his body: to say it was intimate was to understate the situation entirely.

Khan found Arthur’s lips with his and imparted such passion that Arthur thought he would forget to breathe. The pressure of lips on his own was the only sensation his brain could process, until mouths opened and revealed a trace of Spearmint that Arthur had never detected before. A small lingering bite on Arthur’s lower lip brought him back into the present and Khan was fully over him now: imposing but breathtaking.

“Now, shall we begin?” Khan said.

“Oh God yes,” Arthur said.


End file.
